


Little Red

by Balerion



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Are Grey Jedi a thing?, Braeda Hux, Force-Sensitive Hux, Horror, Hux-centric, M/M, Multi, Not light or dark, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Red Riding Hood Elements, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 02:45:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5810575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balerion/pseuds/Balerion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set approximately a year after Episode VII: Kylo returns from training, much more composed. Hux returns from his own Snoke-assigned mission, much more withdrawn. Or so it appears. The two have a way of getting under each other's skin. Translation: Kylo's rage is still there and Hux has PTSD.</p><p>Hux-centric, Little Red Riding Hood-inspired.</p><p>First two chapters have been edited and embellished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided the first version I posted was not up to my regular standards and I had to edit and update it. I also had to edit it to fit with the plot that I developed to make sense. It's all really not fully fleshed out so I am reworking things and I hope it doesn't come out as confusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted early was a rushed first version of this chapter, but I decided to edit it to be more conducive to the plot that's been building of this fic since I started. I'm nit picky and this version is much more up to my standards. Hope you enjoy that changes and additions.

Soldiers lined up like toys, shiny and masked, shouldn’t have been able to exude any sort of emotion while standing perfectly still. But the empathy that the Force afforded caused the anticipation to roll off the masses in waves. Under the anticipation Kylo Ren could pick out the bubbles of relief from officers and admiration from the stormtroopers. 

As the craft docked in the hanger and the hatch released, the emotions swelled and the first appearance of the long absent general brought it to a breaking point. The flash of bright fiery color made it undeniable that this was whom the occupants of the ship had been missing, albeit the orange-y red locks were sun bleached to a lighter, blonder shade and the familiar pressed uniform was replaced with a torn undershirt and ragged, mud-splattered cargos. 

And yet, his posture was impeccable and his expression was carefully schooled. Even better, Kylo thought, eyes closing momentarily before he could catch himself, he was a soothing emotionless island in a sea of excitable personale. It was a balm to the rising headache that the ship had been causing him with the days leading up to this very moment.

Kylo hesitated from his perch on the observation deck. The few about him, the bare minimum necessary to be at the controls while the rest had gone to greet their missed general, were unapologetically leaning forward to catch a glimpse, murmuring to each other joyfully. 

After the disaster that was destruction of the Starkiller coupled with the immediate departure of the general the occupants of the Finalizer had very little to keep them from despair. If Kylo had thought it was bad before he’d been sent to his training with wound still fresh and the shock just fading to full realization, then it had been abysmal when he’d returned just shy of a year later. 

His own return hadn’t been what you would call an emotional event, not that he’d expected much, though they’d honored him with the same respectful attendance as today. But his return hadn’t inspired hope. He wasn’t the military genius of which solutions to their current problems would apply. That was General Braeda D. Hux’s role, he’d been filling that particular role seamlessly since his days as a junior officer. Not that Kylo cared. He had his Knights who were his charges, scattered as they were with their own objectives, these First Order lackies were beneath his attentions.

He departed the observation deck without a word, none taking much notice of him. He disappeared down the deserted halls and away from the ocean of human emotions, the island persistent and soothing through the distance.

~~~

It was days before the dark haired Force user came in contact with the returned leader. The atmosphere of the ship was dramatically altered from the weeks before. It was curious that emotions remained so uplifted while nothing had changed with the return. 

There were no new orders or goals set forth. The general had not given an address or explanation to his mission and the ship was just as functional, though aimless, as it had been. 

And yet the crew was rejuvenated. Like the general had brought an abundance of drink to the thirsting masses in a desolate wasteland. Kylo scoffed at the ridiculousness of that image. As if Hux was some kind of prophesized savior.

The dark haired man was walking from his own chambers, familiar yet chillingly strange since his training had kept him away, to the private room he’d been using for meditation when he’d turned a corner and came face to face with the exact individual he’d been avoiding.

They’d both stuttered to a stop just short of collision and looked at the other with quickly masked surprise. Gone were the ragged clothes he had arrived in. The redhead was back in regulation uniform, missing only his hat and signature great coat. His hair was distinctly not regulation, though his sun bleached locks had been trimmed to even levels at his nape and his beard was groomed. His throat suddenly felt dry and he swallowed roughly.

“Lord Ren,” the general murmured respectfully; dully. As if the redhead, reserved as he could appear, was ever a dull creature. 

Those peppermint green eyes trained unblinkingly at his naked forehead. They were the only part of the ginger that seemed alive, brightened to impossible vividness by some indecipherable emotion. 

“General,” he heard his own voice acknowledge, vibrating roughly from misuse. He swallowed again and his throat itched due to the soreness. When was the last time he had spoken aloud?

Green drifted down to meet brown eyes finally and stared. The owner seemed to freeze despite himself and those bright eyes began to dim and become unfocused. There was something very wrong about this creature in front of him, Kylo felt down to his toes. 

Without realizing Kylo reached out with the Force, chasing after the brightness leaving those eyes, and abruptly met with steel-enforced mental blocks. It seemed to jar the other, as if he felt the attempted intrusion, and he nodded respectfully, strangely enough, and hurry away without another word. 

Strange, Kylo thought, that he’d been down this particular corridor. Strange what a year could do to a person. Kylo’s eyes darkened but he held his temper in, remembering that a year was a long time to wait and expect something from another.

~~~

Braeda hurried away with as much grace as one fleeing from a particular distasteful scene could. He’d felt the pressure against his mental shields, so carefully constructed over the past year. It hadn’t even come close to cracking but the familiar push against it was unnerving and his paranoia was renewed. He couldn’t let the Supreme Leader’s apprentice see what his mind had been considering. 

No matter their history, Kylo was Snoke’s, he would not be swayed from his Master, Braeda thought bitterly.

The Finalizer was not his safety zone anymore than the wilds of the unnamed planet he’d been were. While the actions of his officers and soldiers displayed loyalty and admiration that he would have once used as motivation it felt like a fabrication to his tortured mind. They were first and foremost the subjects of the First Order. Their loyalty to him was only through his station within the hierarchy of the First Order.

Returning should have felt like a homecoming; the scene that had met him in the hangar had been that exact image. But his heart had stayed untouched and frozen in his rib cage, the iron medallion hanging from his neck feeling heavy against his chest even as his officers had looked at him with eager eyes, questions awaiting on their lips, their minds light with relief. Wasn’t that a kick to the stomach? This empathy that he’d never been privy to, barely understood before he had returned.

The tidal waves of relief and welcome were overwhelming as he had made his first step onto the Finalizer after so long. He’d fought hard against the suffocating feelings pushed toward him like a raging storm, picking up on a speck of cool indifference and clinging to it even as it slowly drifted away. It was familiar and unique, but he didn’t want to acknowledge why that was.

This whole week had been the same. Any time he wasn’t needed on the bridge or in a meeting he had spent in his private quarters, curled in his ridiculously ornate chair with his long legs tucked to his chest, glass of alcohol cradled in his hand. He kept the lights at 5%, the greatest source of light a single candle on his empty desk. 

His eyes stared at it both seeing and not seeing it, mind humming and silent in equal parts. A part of him felt a presence floors away and reached out just short of touching, the plain piece of jewelry, if you could call it that, weighing on his chest like a weight. 

He sipped from his glass, feeling neither the burn or its numbing effect. He only felt the flame, his mind shrinking and expanding with it. 

Suddenly the buzz of humanity woke him from his thoughtless treading as he approached the bridge, (how had he gotten from his bed chambers to the bridge?) nodding to his second in command to relieve her. She nodded respectfully and her mind expanded with some kind of emotion towards his. He mentally pushed it away, determined not to read them, instead allowing her the privacy of her thoughts. They eventually flickered out of existence as she got further away from him. 

Weird how distance seemed to impede his empathetic ability for all but that one haunting presence. The indifference of the presence irked something within Braeda, though it shouldn’t. Intellectually he knew a year was a long time, and there was no expectations from before and even less than none now.

And so he stayed on the bridge for the entirety of his shift, acting the dutiful general to all who observed while drifting mentally into his thoughts and memories.

In the background of his mindscape a single voice called in an almost constant refrain; strong, sturdy, yet so far away. 

Sweat trickled down his back but he suppressed the shiver and mentally added another layer between him and that call as he had since its manifestation.

Ignoring it neither dampened the strength of it nor the pull he felt.

TBC...


	2. Strain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited and embellished, this time with much more sentiment, inner thoughts and sad excuses for denial.

The General and the Knight did not cross paths again until Snoke summoned them. Kylo was actually surprised (overstatement, he very rarely felt that emotion anymore) it had taken this long for Snoke to talk to the general. It had been at least three weeks since his return.

He was also surprised (again, overstatement) that he’d been invited to be a part of this conference seeing as his Master hadn’t given him any particular task since he’d been sent back to the Finalizer. 

He’d been mostly meditating and continuing his training, albeit less intensive than he had under Snoke’s immediate supervision. It was hard to replicate the mental strain that Snoke exerted on him during that time period.

Their connection through the Force was silent now, though he could tell his Master had been preoccupied with something else. Something that had to do with the ginger’s mission.  
Said man arrived after the knight, his demeanor stoic, his beard fuller, hair longer but still trimmed neatly. He looked the same yet different. His eyes alone showed anything, a haunted look as they took in the hologram of his Master’s form. They were darker today, less peppermint and more jade, holding a heavier feeling.

Why did he keep noticing the other man’s eyes? The exact shade and expression in those eyes, when had that ever meant anything to him? Except maybe before... once upon a time, he had coveted seeing them wide with unrestrained emotion as he loomed over him. But, no, none of that mattered, and it was nothing like this creature that had returned to him them. 

Something is not right, the Force seemed to whisper. Goosebumps seemed to raise unbidden as the green eyed man stood next to him, shoulder to shoulder. He felt disturbed as they stood before his Master, so similar to the times before, yet not. But only calm seemed to permeate next to him, slowly it settled the feeling within him. Like a cool cloth against a fevered brow.

Kylo stiffened upon that thought, there was definitely something wrong here. But was it him or the general? Even as a erratic youth (as he was starting to view his former self, the one that had raged and destroyed inanimate objects, killed his father and then was beaten to near death by an untrained scavenger) he had never felt affected by simply standing next to his former... what had they been?

“General, you’ve accomplished your mission, I congratulate you. Later than anticipated but I am… pleased.” He sounded far from pleased yet not angry. He almost sounded dismissive. Had this mission, that had taken the general over a year, been something so mundane or was his Master belittling the general to put him in his place. It seemed to be a favorite mind game he seemed to play; one Kylo only admitted, in the deepest most secure part of his mind, was distasteful. Kylo felt the rise of anger from beside him but it was just as quickly squashed. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Braeda’s eyes darken even further. 

Braeda, he could only think of one instance where he’d called the general by that name. It felt so long ago that it could have just as been a mirage or fanciful daydream.

The redhead stayed silent, boldly staring at the Supreme Leader without an ounce of shame. This was a far cry from a year before, Kylo thought, remembering a general that sought Snoke’s approval just as much as himself. They had been competitors in that way. Rivals. That seemed so long ago, so petty. (Something that had only been set aside when they were alone and....)

But that’s how he’d always seen the general; petty, prickly and pretentious. The creature beside him was much more patient, reserved, hidden. He’d never felt the other hold back his emotions before, though he was always smart enough to know how to hold his tongue. That had been something he had grudgingly admired of the man, his composure (and maybe a few other less savory things....)

Composure, funnily enough, was an important focus of his training. His meditation during that time, needing a focal point, had always drifted to the figure of the pompous (handsome) man. Snoke had silently watched from a corner of his mind, disapproving of his unconscious choice (did he know?), but it had worked (and he wouldn’t apologize for it if it worked). 

Those piercing eyes and sharp cheekbones had haunted him even after those trances had faded away. Appearing in his dreams when his nightmare became too much, the memory of his falling father being interrupted by a tall figure in a black uniform cinched by a belt with a silver buckle ( or, sometimes, the tall figure without the uniform). Details that distracted him from the terrors of his deeds.

He felt a sudden wave of displeasure sent his way that rocked him from his reverie. Hux was still looking directly ahead of him at the pale hulking figure of a hologram, but his lips were pulled down in a frown, marring his perfect mask.

Had he projected? No, his training had made him stronger, more in control. There was no way an ordinary, boring (cunning and passionate) human like Braeda Hux (stop thinking of him like that in front of Master Snoke) could have known what he’d been thinking. Said man’s cheek made a seemingly involuntary twitch. Strange.

“You may leave us, General,” Snoke finally said. Had they been discussing something as his mind drifted or had been silent this whole time? Kylo risked another side glance (this was childish, you’re not that child anymore Kylo) at Hux and wondered why he looked so flustered and openly hostile (as openly as Hux got, which really just looked like cold indifference to anyone who didn’t know him... or was a Force use).

Either way General Hux nodded without a word and turned sharply without hesitation.

The two waited until the sound of heeled boots faded (though his unmistakeable presence lingered at Kylo’s side like it was meant to always be- no, stop, not in front of your Master). “You will watch the General, Ren. He carries an air of...defiance about him. A more careful surveillance of his mission may have been necessary, but that oversight is beyond us now.”

Us, Kylo thought, right. But, finally. An objective. An escape from the monotony and the slow treachery of his own mind.

“Be wary, though. I can sense your...fascination with the boy.” Fascination? Hux was nothing extraordinary, nothing worth obsessing over, preposterous (Liar). “Master, I assure you I have no such interest in the General.”

“Kylo,” Snoke’s voice was equal parts poisonous and patronizing. “there is no point denying this.” Annoyance was beneath his Master, and yet….

“What is it that I should be watching for?” Kylo said instead of following that thought. He was too tired these days to argue or ponder. Sleep neither escaped him nor rejuvenated him anymore. Something locked him in his sleep each night, memories haunted him, his own mind betrayed him with false images, now more than ever with Braeda Hux’s return. Awake his mind was constantly assaulted, no rest, except maybe those quiet moments when he reached out to that one island of calm....

“I believe this mission may have… pushed the General to a certain breaking point. Any sign of mutiny of any degree must be reported to me immediately.” 

Something like shock sizzled through the dark haired man. A year ago the thought of a insubordinate Hux would have been laughable. Even now with the haunted figure inhabiting the redhead’s body, like a walking shell of the man he used to be, it was hard to imagine him defecting. No, the Hux of yesteryear would rather perish at the hands of enemies than betray the First Order.

“As you will it,” Kylo voiced instead of his thoughts. Snoke still looked displeased, his disfigured visage impossibly more twisted as his beady eyes examined Kylo critically. The feeling of something raking slowly and painfully across his mind made him neither flinch or resist.

Kylo carefully put up his walls instead as the feeling receded, mind wandering to the memory of Hux’s shields, the perfect steel-plated fortress. They’d always been there, he’d always been a formidable mind, but this was advanced. Whatever the year had brought him it was something that had forced him to fortify. It was impressive (it was depressing, how could he take that beautiful mind locked away? No, stop that train of thought.)

What had been his mission? Why was Snoke so, for lack of a better word, concerned? (Where had his Hux Braeda gone?)

~~~

Braeda left the meeting feeling numb; when did he feel anything else. A small voice in the back of his head was trying to… what, comfort him? That jolted him a bit as he walked passed a pair of saluting stormtroopers.

What was he doing aboard this ship again? What were their plans? The Finalizer was literally drifting in space aimlessly, just as it had for the last year without him. No communication with the other fleets, isolated, their flagship seemingly forgotten.

Following the destruction of the Starkiller, after his obligatory rescue of Kylo Ren, Hux had come up with plans. And back up plans. He’d sat by Kylo Ren’s unconscious body in the medbay, for some reason feeling camaraderie (and something deeper, like... heartache concern) with the silent figure, looking as defeated as he himself had felt. He’d sat and he’d plotted, barely catching sleep between updates on casualty and damage reports, refusing to leave his colleague’s bedridden body.

Those plans had flown right out the window when he’d been summoned by Snoke. The news had startled him and he’d looked at the Supreme Leader’s apprentice, silent with an angry grimace marring his pale and slashed face in his sleep, before standing dutifully. There had been a flutter in the back of his mind and it felt as if something was pulling him back to sit where he’d been the last five hours.

He’d violently wrenched out of its grasp, unnerved by the power and of the part of him that hadn’t wanted to resist, and imagined a steel door shutting heavily on prying eyes. The flutter had stopped abruptly and in his bed the injured man had wrinkled his prominent nose as if that door had almost hit him.

Such a child, had been Braeda’s last thought before marching down to the holochamber that day. It would be the last he’d see the knight for over a year. 

“General, I have a mission for you,” Snoke had said without preamble upon his arrival. Dread had pooled and Snoke had twisted his expression into a gleeful smirk. The steel doors of his mind never could work as well on the Supreme Leader.

That was the last moment of General Braeda D. Hux’s life as he knew it. 

TBC....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse the formatting if its confusing, the thought within a thought format might be a little confusing, but it's supposed to make it apparent that they're jumbled up messes. Just the way my mind loves them.


	3. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter that caused the rewrite of the others. You'll see why. If you haven't already reread the first two chapters with their very important edits to the kylux relationship
> 
> I really liked this, so i posted it faster than i probably should have, but hopefully you enjoy

Chapter 3: Red

Spying, for lack of a better word, was much easier for Kylo when he still had his mask to hide behind. Now, having lost the accoutrement during that fateful battle with the scavenger, he had to depend much more on the Force than ever. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working as easily as it had before on Braeda D. Hux.

Kylo’s observation of General Hux had been much easier before the destruction of the Starkiller. In the sanctuary of his own mind, unwatched by Snoke, he could admit to having been enamored with the mind before they had started their ~~relationship~~ affair. It was a beautiful, logical place to encounter, naturally flowing like a stream trickling down the mountainside following gravity and its ancient path.

Aside from that, the man himself was formidable as far as non-Force users could be; respected by his underlings, feared by those that dare displease him. He was disciplined and decisive as a leader should be. And best yet was that he had a seemingly fearless disposition. Even in the face of Snoke’s ire he had a cool head, and he’d never flinched in the face of Kylo’s own lapses in control in the past. It was a quality that had first made him a prime object of Kylo’s daily meditation when they had first become acquainted (and later a object of Kylo’s less innocuous thoughts).

Now it was a little trickier. He couldn’t skim the general’s thoughts anymore (something he loved but had restrained from doing when their relationship had become more...intimate), not with his shields proving to be impenetrable. The Force would not work for this particular mission(pity, to waste such power). This would require tact, something he knew very well was not his strong point. It was always more ~~Braeda’s~~ Hux’s strength.

He set his cafeteria tray down loud enough for the redhead to notice and send a fleeting look across the dining table at him. “General,” Kylo intoned blandly as he sat himself directly in front of his target. Hux glimpsed up from beneath his (long, pale) eyelashes and promptly returned to his datapad without a word of acknowledgement (familiarly a habit that still used to tick him off).

Kylo watched him unabashed (ignoring the annoyance he felt at the back of his mind), eating slowly and trying to pick out what was going on in the other’s head without the use of the Force. It was difficult with the lack of body language and facial expressions to give him a clue (not that he was ever very fluent in the subtle nuances of that sort).

“Not hungry, General?” Kylo finally asked, breaking the silence as he looked at the other’s plate, complete with two small sides of vegetables and a untouched muffin.

“Not particularly, no, I’m rather busy as you can see,” finally Hux said, his shoulders tensing as he replied, as if he’d spoken without meaning to and was chastising himself. Kylo snorted derivatively and forked some food onto the plate, pushing the vegetables aside to make room for the half steak he’d left untouched from his own plate. The fiery beard couldn’t hide the sunkenness of his cheeks or the pallor. Not to one who knew that face so intimately (danger thoughts, Kylo).

“I don’t know with what, there doesn’t seem to be much activity on the Finalizer as of late. One would think that with your return that you would do your job. I suppose your long sabbatical has made you used to inactivity, though,” Kylo said recklessly, knowing he was going to get a reaction. He knew the other man well, well enough to know exactly how to hurt him (damnit, Kylo). 

The following silence that ensued had Kylo watching carefully. He’d frozen as if stunned by a phaser and finally calmly set down his datapad. Instead of reacting right away he stared at the plate in front of him with a blank stare. Meticulously cut squares of rare beef stared back at him, exactly the way Kylo liked his steak. 

“Sabbatical...,” Hux murmured under his breath as the blood and juices of the steak mixed with his side of sauteed broccoli.. His jade eyes flickered up to Kylo’s, momentarily distracting him from observing the trembling (elegantly crafted) hands clutching the edge of the table. “Sabbatical,” he said louder, getting up with his usual grace, ignoring the interest the raised voice drew to their otherwise empty table. 

Kylo followed the movement with his eyes, not even bothering to mask his amusement with the slow flush creeping across his (delicate) cheekbones. “Here’s your sabbatical,” Braeda growled as he upended the tray onto Kylo’s black robes, and promptly leaving the shocked silent caf without an ounce of shame in his tall posture.

Kylo’s own shock recovered much faster than those around him. Instead it was replaced by some irrational anger that came from a place he had thought he had sealed off for exclusively when he wanted to access his power. Somehow that _display_ more than anything set him off (Braeda was always contained, even in his anger, frustration, and disgust. That _creature_ was an insult to his former ~~lover~~ conquest).

~~~

Braeda was two rapidly downed drinks in when Kylo swept into the room unannounced. He was just as predictable as ever (Why was this reassuring? That Snoke hadn’t deleted everything that made Kylo himself?). The redhead turned to take in the enraged brunette striding to him, outer cloak discarded helping to emphasize his tall, broad (powerful) frame. 

“Who’s the immature one that lost control this time, General?” Kylo hissed angrily as he approached. A gloved hand roughly pulled at his long, sun bleached locks when he didn’t answer soon enough. The drop of the crystal tumbler was cushioned by the lush carpet of his quarters and rolled away to disappear under his desk.

“Let go,” Braeda grunted as he attempted to wretch the hand off. As always Kylo was physically stronger and gave the fistful a sharper tug despite the hand on his wrist. “You don’t get to order me around, or have you forgotten how this goes,” he responded, using his grip to crane the others face towards his own.

“Kylo,” the slighter man said, softer this time (But not pleading, that was never a part of their play). “Red.”

His gloved arm automatically released and dropped to his side. His anger faded enough for him to finally take in the way Braeda’s breath was stuttering and his legs shaking as if they may give out at any moment. The rest of that same anger evaporated and before he can think he’s guiding the redhead to the bed, setting him against the headboard, feeling rather than seeing the tremors racking his body in the low light.

This is the most he’s touched Braeda since his return and he’s almost scared to reach out a hand to comfort him (your training hadn’t reached this level of indifference, not with him, not Braeda). The redhead seemed to sense his hesitation and pulled him down beside him. The dim light does nothing to expose his (beautiful, expressive, wonderful) magnificent eyes. “Just hold me.” the other ordered, but it's spoken so softly, like he doesn’t remember how to ask for it.

They laid together silently, maneuvered on their sides, Kylo’s arms wrapped securely around the other’s ribs (they’re too prominent, the uniform hid it well). Braeda’s tremors died down almost the instant Kylo pulled him flush against his chest. But his breathing is still irregular (this is not right).

“Your mission... it took something away from you, didn’t it,” Kylo stated more than asked. He didn’t need to know the details of the mission (didn’t need, but wanted, badly) to have noticed the effects of it the moment Braeda had stepped back onto the Finalizer (though he’d tried so hard to be indifferent, this would be his undoing, surely. Snoke must never know. He was terrified he already knew. Terrified that was why Braeda had been sent away. No, it was an important mission, Snoke would not waste his highest general. No, Snoke had been displeased with the wait, not that Braeda had come back at all).

Silence.

“Your training wasn’t a cakewalk either I assume,” the ginger replied, blatantly trying to steer the conversation away from himself (but also because he’d been scared, he’d returned to being avoided by this ghost of the Kylo he knew and...).

Silence.

“Do you find it strange that the Supreme Leader treats his most loyal followers so terribly,” Braeda continued, mind taking his thread of thoughts and running with it. Heavens knows this might be his last chance to voice them (Snoke was up to something, it would surely lead to his death. Something more terrible than. No, stop that thought.)

“Braeda...,” Kylo’s toned, as expected was disbelieving (he ignored the part that felt like a spark of accord. It was projecting, it was hopeful thinking. Kylo was loyal to Snoke, no one else mattered as much. _Much less him of all people_ ).

“No, Kylo. He sent you away to be alone directly after being critically injured and after killing your own father. That doesn’t set off any alarms? Meanwhile sending me on a mission he never expected me to come back from.” 

You’re wrong, Kylo wanted to scream, but even he didn’t need his inner voice to tell him he would sound childish. In denial (he was good at that, maybe it was even his greatest talent).  
“Master Snoke wouldn’t intend for his highest general to die on a mission.” It sounded weak even to his own ears, rehearsed but poorly delivered. 

“You have no idea what I went through for that mission.” A flash of crimson across a stone altar. An old lady sitting in a decrepit rocking chair, throat slashed, stomach cavity ripped apart. A demonic vision with piercing eyes that reflected starlight, its maul stained in stale blood. A million bones scattered across a grey courtyard. The feeling of hunger slowly driving to madness. Kylo felt dizzy at the sudden projection thrown at him.

“Brae-” he was interrupted by a kiss. Firm and demanding but lacking teeth and fevered aggression like he was used to (he used to be used to). Kylo started to respond just as the force relaxed to a softer, sweeter pressure.

Just kiss me and hold me, Braeda projected, clear as if he’d spoken it aloud, though his lips were otherwise occupied.

Kylo moved his arm and tightened his hold around the ginger’s back, relaxing to stroke the nape of his neck when the embrace was met with tension. Braeda seemed to melt at that, so he continued it.

It had been more than a year since their last dalliance. Even then it had never been so sweet, like an honest to god homecoming, much better than thousands of stormtroopers saluting you in unison. Where they had been fire and teeth a time that felt so long ago this felt like basking in the sun on a late spring day.

Unbidden, an image of a small child appeared. Face smattered with freckles with bright forest green eyes smiling into the embrace of a gentle breeze. The leaves of the verdant trees overhead rustled and there was peace.

“Kylo,” Braeda whispered against his lips and the man understood. His hands moved to sweep the other’s body(at some point their clothes had been shed while they kissed so passionately, he was sure he really cared), callus fingers feeling scars under his fingertips, raised and new. He frowned as his lips kissed a line down the pale neck. There were more things that had changed this year than he thought.

As his kisses reversed direction traveled up to a delicate ear his hand settled at the pulse point of the ginger’s neck, thumb lightly pressing at the fluttering of life there. It felt powerful being so attuned to his lifeforce, how much trust it must have taken for Braeda to want, ask, for it. Braeda gasped as the thumb pressed in deeper. “Red,” he murmured. “Red, Red, **Red** ,” he continued with increasing volume and panic. Kylo stopped, getting caught in the terror that suddenly filled the room. 

“Lights at 75%” The room brightened to a level just enough to not blind them and Kylo sat up to look at the man underneath him. He was gasping shallowly, hand across his neck as if to protect it from Kylo. The brunette reached out with this hand slowly, wrapping around the delicate wrist, stroking his thumb gently against the blue veins there. Tried to summon up enough calm to assist the other, unable to due to the rabbited beat his own heart mirrored.

The image of that small child from before appeared in his mind, this time standing before that demonic presence of more recent memory. There was blood dripping down the child’s arm as the demon slowly reached out to rake his wicked claws across a freckled cheek.

“Shhhh,” Kylo shushed aloud, trying to distract, to stop the imagining from progressing. There was a bubble forming in his stomach pushing up and making nausea leap up threateningly.  
“No one will hurt you here,” he said, (ignoring the ugly voice that cried liar. Was that him or Braeda?) moving to craddle the other, hoping the skin to skin contact would draw the other from his morbid thoughts.

While the images started to fade the color red stayed prominent in their shared mind space. It was violent and ugly. Kylo never understood why Hux’s safeword had been something so unoriginal and simple like “red.” Maybe now he was starting to understand....

~~~

“Where are you going?” Kylo asked, brought sharply out of sleep by the body withdrawing from his arms. It left him feeling cold, empty (do not think of the months training, alone, isolated, pushed to near madness). There was a thrum right under his skin, slowly causing his heart to beat faster (his instincts were telling him to draw the other back in, to shroud him with the warmth of his own body and keep them together at all costs). 

“Bathroom,” the other whispered back, easily breaking the hold of the hand encircling his wrist (Kylo was quick to learn when it came to Braeda, being gentle with him was easy). “Go back to sleep,” Braeda said when those chestnut eyes continued to watch him, putting _emphasis_ on the words.

Kylo felt a kiss drop to his temple like an affectionate prayer following Braeda’s soothing words. His eyes drooped as if on command and blinked once to take in the naked outline of his ~~conquest~~ lover by the bathroom lights, then he fell back asleep. 

He might have been dreaming but he thought he’d heard someone whisper in his mind, “Don’t trust Snoke.” (You don’t have to tell us twice).

~~~

The second time Kylo woke up he felt the cool satin sheets covering him, tucked in to keep his long limbs from tossing them off. “Braeda,” Kylo called, wondering at the chill in the room. No reply followed. Kylo frowned and sat up, attempting to make his eyes adjust, they felt heavy still, and it was proving hard to keep them open.

He blinked awake slowly, with some effort, and the closed them, trying to concentrate on finding the calm, soothing island in the chaos of the large ship. All he felt were bored stormtroopers and anxious officers. 

Slowly the truth started to sink in and that ugly rage from the night before was back. Deceitful creature, Kylo mentally screamed (How could he leave me now).

~~~

Several light years away on a small ship a brunette stepped out of the tiny refresher aboard, freshly shaved to reveal pale needle-like scars across his jaw. His darkened eyes closed as he climbed stiffly into the modest cot, letting the autopilot follow the course he had set.  
“I’m sorry, Kylo.”

End Part One.

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ends part one. Part two is going backwards.
> 
> Might have to change the rating for part three....


End file.
